


Forces

by thirstaidkit



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Vibes (1988)
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Universe, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Psychic Abilities, The Force, YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW, force ghost Paige Tico, just trust me, no beta we die like men, vibes is literally the perfect reylo au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:53:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28024272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thirstaidkit/pseuds/thirstaidkit
Summary: The canonverse reylo Vibes (1988) AU I've been dreaming about since I fell in love with this obscure gem of a movie! Since the fall of the Empire, the galaxy is at peace, and the Jedi are a thing of the past. Force users Ben Solo and Rey of Jakku get roped into an adventure quest - can they track down a powerful Jedi artifact in time to thwart an evil plot to use it to wrest control of the New Republic? Or will falling in love prove too distracting?This is my first attempt at a multichapter canonverse fic, so strap in and watch me butcher DLF's IP!
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	Forces

The peak was shrouded in early-morning mist, which blurred and obscured the features of the landscape so thoroughly that the two travelers reached the summit without realizing it. Only when their wizened, fishlike guide stopped, patted the arm of the foremost quester and whispered something unintelligible did they make the connection between this small, flat place at the end of their long climb and the destination they had sought so long. 

It was anticlimactic, honestly. An ancient Jedi temple should have been _more_ than this somehow. While Zan Sarat had little interest in the Jedi and their brand of ancient mysticism, in his heart of hearts, he had to confess being a little disappointed. He’d expected, at the very least, some statuary; but there was only a small stone pedestal in the center of what looked like a landing pad. It had some carvings on it, at least. Zan couldn’t make them out, but they were there, etched into the stone so long ago that they had been worn almost smooth again by the weather. 

He was about to ask their guide about the temple, and what had become of the rest of it, when his companion, an irritable Quarren by the name of Shamasi, made that impossible by firing a blaster bolt through the creature’s head. With a small squeak of surprise, it tumbled off the edge and fell, coming to rest with a sickening crunch somewhere far below them, obscured by the mist, which was beginning to dissipate even as they watched.

“What did you do that for?” Zan complained, tired of Shamasi’s itchy trigger finger. 

“Relax.” She growled, more preoccupied than actually annoyed. “They don’t know anything. And we don’t want any witnesses for this.” Facial tendrils rubbing together with excitement, she applied her suctioned hands to the stone table before her and lifted, shifting the plate to reveal the artifact they had come here in search of.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to --” he started, but the words died in his mouth as Shamasi touched the thing which they had been tasked with crossing the galaxy to locate and secure (but never to handle directly) and it began to glow. The intensity ramped up frighteningly fast, and Zan reached out in a feeble attempt to stop whatever was happening.

It was too late. The glowing vibrated, it pulsed with a hungry energy. It consumed Shamasi even as he watched, dissolving her into particles. As he sailed through the air on his back, Zan saw the horizon, where dawn was streaking the sky with purple and orange behind the sharp peaks and valleys, revealed by the burning away of the fog like a Zeltronian veil dancer’s curves. 

_Beautiful_ , he thought. He came to rest against an outcropping of rock, and thought nothing further.

\-----------------

As soon as he’d taken off his leather gloves and laid them aside the images had washed across him like a wave - bodies crashing sweatily into one another. He’d barely even grazed his fingertips across the table’s surface. “Someone’s had sex on this table,” Ben Solo announced confidently to the two New Republic science officers who sat across from him. “Recently.” An awkward moment followed, in which they exchanged glances and Ben realized too late that it had been them. _Huh._ He would have assumed they’d be biologically incompatible. _But,_ he supposed, _where there’s a will…._

He didn’t know why he had allowed his uncle Luke to talk him into coming back for more tests. They didn’t understand any more about his sensitivity to (and ability to manipulate) the all-encompassing universal energy that the now-defunct Jedi order had called the Force than they had when he’d first started coming here as a boy. 

The Force Sensitivity Studies Institute on Coruscant was located in what was left of the Jedi temple there, but it wasn’t a religious institution any longer. Unlike the Jedi order, who had trained their force-sensitive acolytes to channel their power into the martial arts, (the better to be weaponized by a corrupt government), F.S.S.I.’s purported aim was simply to study force sensitive individuals, in the hope of helping them to better understand their unusual abilities. 

Luke had been adamant about that. He was, in a way, the last Jedi, having studied under two of the last surviving old masters, but after the war had been won and the empire defeated, he’d decided on the need for a new approach. He was retired now, with a country home on Chandrila, and Ben didn’t talk to him often. The work was being carried on by others, more curious and energetic. Younger. So what if force-wielders weren’t really relevant in a galaxy at peace? That was still no excuse for Ben, who was powerfully gifted, not to mention kriffing _family_ to shirk his duty to science by failing to let himself be pored over like a lab rat.

At least that was the message he’d relayed by way of Ben’s mother, Leia. Ben felt a little bullied into it by the two of them, but it wasn’t such a big deal, really. It would be nice to meet some others who had been through some of the same difficulties. To feel like he wasn’t alone. 

He passed his ungloved hands over the assortment of objects in front of him, only needing to touch each for a moment or two. They were cutting implements of various sizes, and each had a story to tell him. “You took this from the cantina downstairs, the cook is looking for it,” he said, releasing a straight blade. “This was in the Mandalorian Wars,” he continued, moving on to a surprisingly shiny beskar piece. “Should be in a museum, honestly. Long history.” The scientists typed furiously on their holopads. “And this --” Ben almost threw the oddly-shaped and wickedly sharp dagger as soon as it touched his skin, so disturbed was he by the things he saw in his mind’s eye. Not unappealing interspecies sex or garden-variety bloodshed, that. “That’s….some real dark side stuff. Sith, I guess.” He shuddered. 

The dagger had clattered to the table and the scientists had flinched, but now they looked beyond pleased. “Remarkable,” said the Advosze, rubbing his horn in wonderment. 

“Fascinating,” agreed the Ongree. “Most excellently well-developed case of psychometric sensitivity we’ve seen. Ben’s attention had wandered. Of course they were impressed. People always were. That’s why they were constantly trying to use him for his talents; trotting him out like a party trick. He was there to impress and amuse on behalf of others, and sometimes, he feared, not much more. 

“Shut up, Paige, I’ve got this!” came a strident voice from the hallway. Ben watched the speaker out of the corner of his eye while they blathered at him about the other tests they meant to subject him to and what they’d measure. She had a weird, unfashionable hairstyle and homemade-looking clothes. She was positively _crackling_ with a scrappy, fearless energy. Cute. Freckles splashed across her nose. Slim. _Nice ass_ , he noticed appreciatively, _too bad she’s out of her mind._

He had every reason for thinking so, even if things weren’t quite what he assumed. Mentally balanced beings didn’t usually go around having extremely animated one-sided conversations with themselves. But Rey was a special case. And finally, finally, she was where someone could maybe tell her something about it. Because even though Rey was the only person standing in the empty hallway talking, she had in no way taken leave of her senses. 

She was just haunted, that’s all.

**Author's Note:**

> it's nice to imagine a canonverse where everything didn't go to shit all over again. *sigh* this will undoubtedly be slow to update, and few people seem to be aware of the movie, so who knows if anyone will even be interested, but it won't leave me alone until i write it, so here i go (as my other WIPS eye me angrily). let me know what you think!


End file.
